Bridal lust

This morning I got to work and while having my Cheerios, started looking at wedding dresses. Why, you ask? Only God knows the answer to that one. Maybe it’s all the wedding planning in the air, but I was feeling the yearning – the bridal lust. Don’t get me wrong now – I will not be scampering to find a groom to put a ring on my finger anytime soon. I guess the whole little girl fantasy of the wedding, with the dress and looking like a princess just gripped me this morning. It does not help either that my baby brother announced he is getting married this weekend. Well, yeah…that one was a winner. I think they have pushed it back (good sense prevailed) but he is still getting married. How is this possible?

So it’s 5 friends, including a GB, and a sibling – and I am left browsing David’s Bridal for a dress I may never get to wear. My mother is planning a well-deserved vacation and her psycho firstborn is planning an imaginary wedding. Break out the crazy meds. But I did like that dress in the photo. I think I am past the virginal age where a plain white wedding dress on me would be frickin’ hilarious. Plus blue is my favourite colour so I adjusted the swatch and tadda...

In other news…well, there is no other news. I am tired as usual, fat as usual, despite this “diet”. Note the “diet” as opposed to diet. I had cake today and it was not even worth the guilt. Some free shit they sent to the office. But I still fucking ate it. Why? Only God knows the answer to that one as well. It was just there. Sat in traffic as usual cause some asshole decided to do a nosedive through an overpass railing using his vehicle. I hope the person is alive though, despite my annoyance at having to sit in mind numbing traffic for an hour over a distance that usually takes me 2 mins to cover.

I dunno…just feeling pretty crappy physically which lends to the emotional crabbiness, so if my ISP would allow me, I will log in, post this crap and go to bed.

Power breakfast

Last night when I got home I was totally spent.Having worked late every night last week and then the weekend, without any real rest, my body was just letting me know that it had had enough. I changed into a maxi dress and poured myself a rum and coke. The plan was to have my drink while my feet soaked in the foot spa, while listening to Evolver cause if y'all did not know John Legend is coming to Trinidad and I buy my VIP pass today!!!! (happy dance)

Because one of my quirks is not liking to have cold drinks with ice, but rather frozen, I put my cocktail in a thermal cup, and placed it in the freezer to chill. I then made the biggest mistake of the night - I lay down on bed to stretch my inflamed back. And that was all she wrote. I woke up at 5am - with the lights on, makeup on and my cocktail a brown block of ice. I took said drink out of the freezer and placed it on my dresser for some reason, and stripped and went back to bed.

Woke up at 7.30, still tired but my body cannot do long night sleep like normal people. I got a slice of toast and walked back to my room, and downed the now melted rum and coke at 7.30am. lol. Does this mean I am a lush or that I was just plain thirsty!? Don't try this breakfast at home, friends.

As you may have guessed I have the day off cause I don't normally have that sort of breakfast at the office, nor do I blog from the office. I have been threatening to see a movie for weeks and life just always gets in the way. It is amazing how going to the cinema, buying some chips (I hate popcorn) and relaxing to see a movie requires so much planning and organisation for me. Nothing is simple anymore? Today is the day though - I swear. Today it just has to happen. I have errands which I should have started already but I wanted to pee out a bit of the rum in case the cops catch up with me and plus I just feel tired still. It has been a very hard 3 weeks - and I am totally burnt out. I had hoped to travel today but decided to save that money for a longer weekend.

But in other news, I met a really hot guy - first hot guy in months. I am not sure if he knows that I am checking him out, and I hope he was checking me out, but when he calls me back (we have some business to finalise), I think I may bite some balls and ask him out. I have never asked a man out in my life cause they usually come to me - the miscreants and the not so miscreant. But that sure as hell is not working out for me is it? I am not sure if he is married so I am hesitant.I don't want to come across as some desperada. He is older (of course, I like 'em marinated) and so gorgeous. And he wowed me. I have not been wowed in a very long time. I am not as bold with such things as I am with others. Matters of the heart and of the loins can destabilise strength of character sometimes.

But maybe I should have some more rum today so that when he calls, I would me Mellow Melanie. Wish me luck. And have a good day.

Spinster chronicles - May 2009

I could barely drive myself home cause I was so tired but I am on the internet. I mean, Tamale...seriously!

But a dude sent me an email that may send my week into the sphere of joy so I needed to check it.

No, it was not an offer of sex. I wish. I did make an offer this week though and it was accepted but apparently God has other plans for me cause the penis-toter could not get a flight to come service my needs. Again, a tip for the spinster in you

Tip of the Day - If you are single, not willing to settle for crap, but still require some boinking to keep normalcy intact, please ensure that your fuck buddy is at least local and just a car ride away, as opposed to scouring airline websites to procure a seat so you can get some ass.

It's funny how men can have casual sex but a woman who does it is some kinda ho. I am not a wild, panty waving spinster, wrestling every man I meet, but I do have needs and when it becomes unbearable I heed my inner voice and get on the phone or on the email and arrange some therapy. Unfortunately my man pool is suddenly rather shallow and I now need to advertise and contract new FBs.

In other news, am I only desirable to construction workers, the dudes who operate the truck/machine that sucks up the shit from the sewer and other such hard-working, albeit smelly and crass creatures? I mean, I was looking like a hot piece of heaven yesterday and there was a crew of the shit-suckers on the pavement, having lunch and oh God...the appreciative and lusty cries were raised in unison in the middle of Port of Spain. I mean, seriously! This is not the way to win a girl - by cackling like a pack of hyenas in the jungle and causing every other head to turn to look at the poor unwitting girl who was at the centre of the Neanderthal greeting - the victim!

Am I not desirable to men who simply walk up to you and say hi? Or to guys who smile at you from across the table, hoping you would smile back before they come over to ask you out for a coffee?

Or maybe such creatures just no longer exist! And I am condemned to sporadic imported weekend sex to keep my sanity!

Taking the dick away without explanation

I just got raped. By the medical profession. The medical mafia. Where one doctor sees you, refers you to a specialist even though he knows there is nothing wrong with you, but the specialist is also from some little child-rearing village in India. You see said specialist at the break of day on your fucking weeekend, only for doctor #2 to tell you in less than 5 seconds that there is nothing wrong with you, but still rapes your pocket of $400!

I feel totally violated! Just to clear something up though - the specialist was not the fertility doctor, but rather an orthopaedic doctor. I apparently just have a normal, stress-ridden, I-need-a-vacation spine! $400 I could have spent on some shoes or a new outfit. Steups.

So that episode of Oprah I mentioned was really powerful for me cause it highlighted that

1) there are millions of dumb women out there

2) men like these dumb women cause they can do as they will with them, thus leaving the not so dumb women like myself, manless, sexless and snuggle-less

3) I think more like a man than even men themselves know

Oprah was talking to Steve Harvey about his book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, a book I think I am going to buy to share with my girlfriends cause they do some dumb shit.

And Lermie is screaming out loud - What is Steve Harvey doing? Why is he revealing the secrets???

As they discussed some of the points in the book, some of what I will call gospels, I sat there and nodded and mmm-hmmed and almost "amen'ed" cause the shit he was saying was just so true and I thought, why don't women get this? The woman who asked about being obligated to have sex with a man cause he bought dinner was just one of the women out there who don't get it. I got it. I have been getting it for years. When Steve said women should not lower their standards just cause they got older, I wanted to tape that shit and blast it across the airwaves to all the women who have told me I have too high standards. I nodded when he said not to go overboard with the standards thing - I am not anal about shit like height, putting the toilet down etc. There was a group of women who had LISTS...long, long lists outlining this so-called perfect man. I am not like THAT. But there are just some basic shit I require - respect, honesty, drive, all his hair (lol...not going beneath that bar again...tried it, and it sucked) and good decent values. Is that too much to ask, for crying out loud??

Don't get me wrong. I do dumb things too but not too many. One thing I will in fact admit to doing and being part of the dumb sisterhood for is the whole closure thing.

Women want closure. Women love closure. When a woman has been "he's not into you'ed" by a man, she wants to know more - why aren't you into me, what did I do, who did you meet, when did you realise, how did I mess up, where did it go wrong?

I am totally guilty of wanting closure. Lock me up and throw away the key. I don't get men just thinking they can walk into your life, stick their dick in you, and then without warning, or explanation, leave. That gets me. That sends my blood boiling.

But as Steve said, men don't do closure and women need to get this. Men pay for that dinner and write it off as a loss and move on. Cause there is another woman around the corner who may give up the pussy for some chicken dinner, or who may just be what they'e looking for, as opposed to you, the dumpee, the no-closure heifer.

And I listened to Steve and I said, "okay, I understand that men just move on...that's cool." Do I agree with it? Hell no. I find it a bit hard to just move on. In fact I get damn vex cause I think I am da shit. lol. And I wanna know why, what, when, how etc. To this day, Baldie has not contacted me to say, "well, I just did not feel you" and that annoys me. It annoys my ego that this not-so-great fucker did not think, I, Tamale, was fantastic. lol. It is an ego thing for me. I make no apologies for this and will take my criticism for it. But I tell a dude when I am not feeling him. I tell him what he did not have to make me want to be with him. It's not hard. And they always wanted to know, so why is it wrong for me to want to know? I know there are other sordid sardine in the ocean but that does not help my closure issues.

But I promise to work on it. Everything else though - I might as well have a 10-inch penis cause I think like a man and I get the rest and wish women would get the rest. Like why do men cheat? Cause there will always be a woman out there willing to be the other woman, without regret or remorse. That's so simple. Why do we pull our hair out over it? We are our own worst enemy and one day we hopefully will figure that shit out.

Oh...I am getting too passionate about this. I have a date with my cookbook. Let me keep it.

Not worth more than a chicken leg???

When you look at tv, you can learn so much. You can learn about what's happening around the planet. You can learn how to make a small bedroom seem larger through use of colour, mirrors etc. You can also learn how no matter where technology takes us, there are always going to be people with no damn sense.

Oprah. Oh no, not that Oprah does not have sense. Her guests. I am watching Oprah the other day and the episode which I think requires its own spinster-loving entry features one woman Skyping in from somewhere. And her question goes something like this

- How do you not feel oblgated to sleep with a man after he has bought you dinner?

I was aghast! Is this where women have evolved to, that we think because a man buys us a pasta dish and a slice of cheesecake, we are obligatated to spreadeagle in humble appreciation?

What was even more alarming was the fact that this was not a 20-something year old woman, who I would give a little leeway - not much, but a little. This woman was 50-frickin-3 years old and asking how to get around sleeping with a man after he paid for dinner. This was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard, seen etc. I was truly sad for this woman and wondered if she was still single at age 53 or whether she had been married and was out of the dating game for a while or something - some reason why she asked such a dumb question.

I would hope that when a man asks me out and when he pays for my pork ribs or my ravioli, he would not be paying for my...excuse the bluntness...but not paying for my pussy. I mean, this is even worse than prostitution. At least a prostitrute gets some money to pay bills, buy shoes, food, travel etc. The dinner date just gets, if she's lucky, a nice meal and if not, heartburn and diarrhea. The food ends up in the toilet bowl a few hours later, while a cheque can be invested.

If these are the men out there in the world, then I am burning my thong and applauding my spinsterdom cause I am worth more than a plate of chicken!

Want to know what I did about my excessive underarm sweating?

The entry has nothing to do with underarm sweating. That was the first ad I encountered while checking my email this morning and I thought, why would I want to read about excessive underarm sweating while having Sunday morning breakfast, which by the way was toast and half-water, half-Coke. I know, I am odd. But soda is a fat person type of beverage and I am trying to move away from being a fat person, but there was nothing else to drink. In any event, I also hate soda and only drink it diluted. Diet soda is remarkably too sweet for me as well. Plus my stomach is a bit queasy and Coke usually makes it feel better.

But now that we're done mentioning sweaty underarms and watery Coca Cola, I have more pressing issues to discuss. So I go to the doctor last week...

(digress)

I have been really busy. This job is one of those where I am busy all the time. I usually would use my lunch hour to read the paper, do a crossword, savour my culinary skills in peace. Now I find myself inhaling my efforts over a hot keyboard, with the phone propped against my ear. If the lunchroom were not so far away, I would totally stop doing this cause eating is supposed to be a treat - not an interruption. I realised on Wednesday that for the time I have been there, I had not ventured outside once during the day to just people watch or get some fresh air. I have gone outside for a meeting, and to hurriedly buy my cousin a present. So I locked the pc, and took the elevator down to street level and just sat in the sun, talking to Adonis, watching people walk by and taking a load off. I get to work early, leave late, get home totally exhausted and achey. I am not being paid enough to become this workbot! Not near enough...

(end digression)

...so yeah, I went to the doctor and it is this middle-aged guy from India. Very nice dude but he needs to either brush up on his English, get an earpiece, or immerse himself into the 21st century more often. There he is, scanning my file, comes upon my age, and during his feel-good time of poking around in my business, he asks how many kids I have. I tell him I have none.

Doctor: Hmmmm.

After I am dressed and sitting across from him, he starts on this whole rant about why at my age I don't have any kids and maybe something is wrong. So I explain to him that I am single, have chosen to not have casual sex for fear of disease and being some bitter baby-mama to some asshole, and that when I feel the time is right to have kids, I will. He does not hear any of this clearly. I mean, I really wanted to tell him this is not Mumbai where 13 year olds are being married to old men in arranged marriages and having kids at 15 or whatever. Maybe that works for them, but that's not me. I am not trying to have children at this time, cause I am not in a position to 1) conceive any - you need to be having sex to conceive and 2) I have a whole lot to do and get before I bring a child into this world.

But he was not hearing this. He was still in Mumbai, with the 13 yr olds while the 30-yr old in front of him unsuccessfully tried to explain the whole no-kids thing. The nurse, the Trini nurse, kept giving me the thumbs up and nodding and smiling in understanding, but not this asshole - who kept harping on the kids thing.

You know this farse man will find nothing else to tell me but he want to send me for a pelvic ultrasound to rule out infertility?? Wrote out the referral, signed and stamped it and everything. Gave it to the receptionist so she could make the appointment and rape my pocket of the $350 it costs to get it done. I smiled and told him thanks and as the girl asked me when I was available, I told her try her best and just leave that referral in the file until I am damn well ready. And ready would be when I am actually trying and need the reassurance that I can conceive. WTF!

It's hard enough, as a young, bright, beautiful, fat and sexy woman to find a man who is compatible and has all his white teeth as opposed to gold teeth, and who will love and respect me and complement me (and compliment as well...lol). Hard enough to have the maternal unit, the aunts - both the biological and non-biological aunts, and all other women with children on my back about it. I have to PAY to hear it too?

I mean...really!

Dating tips

I won't deny it - I love "reality" television. Why? I love watching dumb Americans making idiots of themselves. It is really very entertaining. Trinis have tried to do "reality" tv but they try too hard to make it American, and it does not come off funny or entertaining. It just comes off as highly annoying.

My latest reality fix, and because I am a single gal myself, is Tough Love on VH1. It is not the typical skank-infested, Flavor Flav type mess though. It's about women working with a matchmaker to get a man. Hmmm...sounds like my kinda show - desperate women willing to try anything. lol.

But there was some good advice from the past couple episodes

- Sometimes you have to make exceptions for exceptional men. So yeah, sometimes we may think we don't want a divorcee, or a dude with kids, but he may be THAT dude. I think it's great advice, though I still think I am young enough and not desperate enough to subscribe to it. I still hold to my personal preference of not wanting a dude with all that baggage. I know it narrows the man pool significantly, but I just see a Flavor Flav, ghetto type baby mama in my dreams when I think of going down that particular road. But I will keep an open mind.

- Don't be a hypocrite. If you won't date a younger man, then you cannot expect an older man to want to date you either. This hit home cause I love the geezers, but not a big big fan of the little boys. Again, depends on the man cause he has to have that something but I get the point.

-Leave the past in the past. I am proud to say I am good at this. Initially after BT I was so bitter that I would go on a rampage but noone wants to hear about him. So we don't speak about him or any of the other assholes back there.

- Don't do reality tv - ever! No matter how sad or desperate your life is, having the entire world watch your hapless dating efforts cannot possible help your social life.

Pins in the voodoo doll

The relatives are here from the US for Carnival and everyone is going out to a party today. Where will I be? In bed. With a book. God...I am pathetic. I should have bought a ticket and gone too. But at $700 a ticket, and with no psychic knowledge that I would have a job, I passed. But then, on a regular day, $700 a ticket is still ridiculous.

Yesterday I really wanted to tell someone, other than my parents, about my new job. Someone other than GB, who apparently had known days ago anyway (the consequences of living on a small island). Someone other than my gal pals. Steups. It was then I started to get real pissed with you-know-who. Mr “He’s Just Not That Into You”. I mean, how can you NOT be into me? Lol. I’m great!

I was really bummed cause for a while he was a good chunk of my life, and we talked all the time, and then he just-not- that-into-you’ed me. How gross. I wanted to email him and let him know anyway but refrained, cause I am the girl whose girlfriends quake in their high heeled pumps at the thought of coming to me with their man troubles cause I am the do-or-die queen. A usual Tamale response, after the requisite hugging and consoling, to some teary-eyed, snotty-nosed confession may go like this -

What? Girl, pick yourself off the floor and stop bawling. Does he think you’re begging? Is he the last chunk of man flesh on the planet? Don’t get lost in that love bullshit. That’s not love. That is BULL….SHIT! Why are you still with him?

Yeah. That sounds about right. And my friends are so predictable – they avoid me and get so silent when they are tolerating some shit they know perfectly well is bullshit – no calls, no texts, no emails, no drive-bys. And especially after the infamous BT, my horrendous ex with the sex addiction and issues with honesty, I sometimes seem to border on rabid, froth-at-the-mouth, red-eyed, snarling man-hater. Of course I am not, cause I truly am a soft marshmallow type - all sweet and gooey inside, but you get the picture. So I was not going to go against the Tamale grain and email this fucker who clearly does not know a good thing when he sees it. I mean, there is being busy and there is just ignoring a girl and this is ignoring. It cannot be preoccupation with work. It cannot be the constant travelling. That never stopped him before. That’s why he has a Blackberry. I stopped initiating contact, hoping to have him prove me wrong, but he has not contacted me at all. Am I going to sit and wonder if I did anything wrong? No. Why waste that kinda time? I am so done with men and their failure to communicate. I don't see why if you're not that into me, you just cannot tell me. I am a big girl. I can take it. Unless he's dead, I don't understand this behaviour.

So I sat with my “got the job” news in my empty study, watching my silent phone, my empty inbox, and cussed him in my mind. Pins in the voodoo doll.

About the recession - the MAN recession

I had a meeting this morning and afterwards, as we sat on the terrace eating hors d'oeuvres, we started chatting. Us girls that is. And Karla tells me her resolution for 2009 is to quite simply - GET A MAN!

...to which 2 other girls chimed in - YEAH GIRL. mmmmhmmm.

So okay, I need reminding sometimes that I am not actually the last spinster on earth, as much as I may want to believe that I am. I mean, I am not telling random women that my year's mission is to get a man, while eating kebabs. However, I am part of an apparently sizeable group of women - independent, attractive, successful women - who cannot get some regular ass and lovin' and affection.

So what do we do about this?

These days, nothing. I am not so obsessively caught up in this "find a man" adventure. Finding a job to pay the bills and regaining some motivation to lose weight and not eat everything in sight are real priorities for me right now. I mean, we can go on and on about the job bit, but until I actually get a job, it is pretty banal stuff - me talking about my frustrations and anxiety. And in any event, let's remember - Tamale is leaving the job to Jesus!

The eating bit seems to be a bit of a crisis though and I am not sure what prompted it. I have been eating A LOT and it is a tad bit worrying. Maybe I am thinking, "wide hips are the least of my problems when I am penniless and jobless" or maybe I am thinking "well, with the recession when I cannot afford to buy food, it will drop right off so I might as well eat while I can now". Whatever it is, my eating is bordering on fucking ridiculous. I'm hungry now actually and want chips. No chips. The recession has already started affecting my snack haul.

So as we wind our way back to the point at hand, the man recession. Yep. I was saying I am too preoccupied with other things to let this man thing become a Top 5 issue. I got some sex the other day - was not GREAT sex - but it sort of quelled a hunger. Sort of. So I am okay. I also decided that this year, I am going to learn to swim. Yes. I live on an island and cannot swim. But I have plans to apply for that job to laze around on an island all day and blog about it and I need to learn to swim. lol. Plus, it's good exercise though I am a tad bit concerned about the ravaging effects of chlorine on my already ravaged hair. Not to mention my fat ass in a swimsuit in a full pool of young teenagers with pancake flat abs. I also need to save, learn to Latin dance a la Dancing with the Stars and brush up on my French.

So again, you clearly can see the thoughts that proliferate my mind these days - the reason I am not obsessed over the man crisis that everyone else seems to be hot and scattered about.

But sometimes I think, it would be nice to get one of my own.